Fear and Faith in Art Making
Fear and Faith in Art Making
and thoughts on processing rejection
Today, I’m taking a moment to acknowledge my accomplishments over the last year or so… after a brief stopover to mourn the fantasy I let myself envision for the coming year, buffered by this soothing ocean sunset view I recently enjoyed.
This week, I received word that I had not been chosen for an artist opportunity, for which I thought I was a strong candidate. I imagined this particular opportunity to be a catalyst for a new body of work, the connection and space I needed to progress with my art, and a nice little checkmark to round out my artist life bucket list. I pictured myself with a studio space representing the seasoned and accomplished artist I feel like I should be at this point in my career - full of character, charm, color, and space for all my various projects. I projected my fantasy self as a confident, award-winning, and sought-after artist.
But, like many artists, I often live in a confusing dichotomy of fear and faith. Fear of rejection from peers, clients, artists, and my aging body (ok, that’s for us older artists); fear of not being able to pay the bills; fear of feeling like an artistic fraud; fear of not knowing what the road ahead looks like - and yet with just enough faith in myself and my art to keep trudging along and making the art, applying for opportunities, and offering my expertise, time, and products and art for sale anyway. In a determined rejection of that fear.
Even if you have been steeped in an art career for twenty years, it can still be crushing to glance at your email inbox while you are going about your innocuous day, recognize the sender, and see that the top line does not start with “Congratulations.”
No good email starts with “Thank you for your application.”
You can feel the dream you’ve allowed yourself to build for the coming year dramatically and instantaneously dissipate, leaving you momentarily untethered, unsure of your reality.
It’s the fourth time I’ve attempted such an opportunity, which feels like a lot, but it isn’t. And I know that. But knowing is not the same as feeling.
As I work to soften the blow to my bruised ego, I am reminded of the time I watched “Project Runway” (my guilty pleasure show along with anything relating to fashion design! Give me “Next in Fashion” or “Glow Up”, and yes, every season of “Project Runway” that my ridiculous number of streaming services will allow). A contestant (I wish now I could remember who) acknowledged the many years he had auditioned before finally making it on the show. Even though he was rejected year after year, he never gave up. And he eventually realized his dream (as evidenced by his being on the show.)
I am also reminded of the capriciousness of the jury process, having both been juried many times and acted as a juror. I recognize that every jury is different, and every juror brings a unique background and personal ideals to the process that may or may not see you and your art for what they are.
It’s easy to dwell on the disappointments.
Self-evaluation is hard. It requires the strength to believe in your art, your process, and your direction forward, regardless of the jury results, while also allowing space to see it from another person’s perspective—from a juror’s perspective. Re-opening and reviewing your application after disappointing results can open wounds, but it can also start the process of healing them and preparing you for the next application. It is quietly satisfying to see growth in my work from the point I applied to now. (Applications are often submitted months before results are received.)
In these moments, I recall what I consistently tell other young artists when they seek advice about propelling their art practice forward.
Focus on the art
Not the marketing, not the sales, not the judges and juries. Nothing moves forward without a dedication to the most authentic art you can make. The art represents you, not the other way around.
In these moments of rejection - feed your artistic fire with all the angst, energy, and confusion that spirals within. Let it lead to the rawest, most honest, radical, beautiful version of art and artist you can be.
Do that, and nobody can take away your achievement with a few disappointing words in an anticipated yet unknowingly unwanted email.
See your progress
I also like to take these moments to reflect on all the progress I made, the experiences I’ve enjoyed, and my accomplishments over the past year.
It's been a remarkable year! From exhibition opportunities to new community connections, gallery membership, and exploring new media and art practices.
My year was not shaped by rejection; rather, it was shaped by a desire to create meaningful work.
My focus has been and will continue to be my art. I will continue to be propelled down this path I have chosen, with its unexpected destinations and incredible influences that will guide my work, regardless of the opportunities I may feel I am missing.
I am ready.
I will dive deeper into my art…
(As a nod to my past seasonal “gift guides,” I’ll share my 2024 influences in my next post with links to artists and institutions that I hope you find exciting and well-timed for a gift-giving season.)
…and then I will try again.
Keep Trying
I once attended a workshop on the art application process. One of the bare nuggets of truth I received was that application acceptance is often a numbers game. Keep trying. Submit fifty applications and then maybe hope for one acceptance. Sometimes, you simply need the right combination of your work to align with that one project, place, time, or juror - a confluence of little glimmers of light coming together to shine on the remarkable artist you have already become.
To every artist who has felt the sting of disappointment, remember you are worthy. You and your art glimmer with hope and possibility, and your art and the world still need you.
Make your art.
~ Jennifer